


Redefining

by starlightwalking



Series: A-Spectrum Anthology [6]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Aromantic Awareness Week, Demiromantic Character, Demiromantic Enjolras, Gray-romantic Combeferre, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 09:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6046459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightwalking/pseuds/starlightwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras fell for Grantaire suddenly and unexpectedly, but not in the cheesy rom-com way. Identity can be very confusing, especially when it comes to romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Redefining

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope this doesn't come off as 'aros are wrong and eventually fall in love', as an aromantic myself I know that's not true. I tried to tackle that issue in the fic. In this particular case, Enj thought he was aro at first but later realized he was demiro. And I think demiros and other arospec people deserve to be written about, too.

Enjolras fell for Grantaire suddenly and unexpectedly, but not in the cheesy rom-com way.

He'd always thought himself aromantic, and very proud of it. Grantaire had made his attraction fairly obvious, and it really bothered him at first. The flirting, the overtly sexual comments, the cheesy pick up lines... As an aroace, Enjolras hated it. He despised Grantaire for his apathy, for his cynicism, but most of all for his unrequited feelings.

One day, he snapped. In a meeting in front of everyone, he stopped Grantaire mid-rant and shouted out, "No! Stop! Look, I get you're into me, but God— _stop_. I'm aroace, okay? I'm not attracted to you! At all! Stop!"

He braced himself for anger, for shouting, for Grantaire to say something inappropriate or aphobic: "Damn, that's a shame" or "You're hot when you're angry." But to his surprise, that's not what happened.

"Oh my God," Grantaire said, suddenly mortified. All of Les Amis held their breath watching. "I'm so sorry, Enjolras, I...I didn't realize!"

That's when Enjolras realized that maybe Grantaire wasn't such an asshole after all.

He went home that day thinking, fretting that Grantaire was offended even though Enjolras was really the one who ought to be. He stewed it over, then decided that the next day, he ought to make peace.

He asked Grantaire out to coffee, which he was sure was a very mixed signal to him, but, well—he had to start somewhere.

"This isn't a romantic thing," he said bluntly at the beginning of their conversation. He glared into his cup, not daring to meet Grantaire's eyes. "I just...wanted to make peace, you know?"

Grantaire, for his part, nodded in a subdued fashion. He sunk into the booth cushion, wrapped up in a heavy sweater. "Yeah. Okay."

"I'm sorry for...shouting yesterday," Enjolras said quietly. "And...all the other times. I know I ought to give you a chance, like Courf is always saying. But it's hard, with all the flirting..."

"I'm sorry about that," Grantaire said, flushing. "I mean, I knew it bothered you, I should have stopped a long time ago, I know I'm terrible, but...I didn't know you were aroace. I promise I'll stop."

Enjolras spirits lifted. "Okay. Thanks. And...let's not fight anymore, okay? Friends?"

Grantaire snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Really? After all that you want to be friends with _me_?"

"Yes," Enjolras snapped. Then he sighed, reining himself back in. "Yes," he repeated in a calmer tone. "Really."

"Alright then," Grantaire said. He reached out a hand and they shook across the table. "As long as you know what you're getting yourself into."

* * *

 

Things were better after that. It took time, but they were friends. Grantaire's cynicism never changed, but Enjolras tried to see it as another side to an argument, another opinion. And there was no more flirting, which made being around Grantaire much easier.

One summer, all of Les Amis went to the county fair. Each one of them ascribed to the buddy system, and Courfeyrac and Combeferre teamed up immediately. Enjolras looked to Feuilly, but he had already walked over to Bahorel, and pretty much everyone else was already paired off. Then he turned to Grantaire.

Grantaire looked faintly surprised, but shrugged in acceptance when Enjolras asked to be his buddy. They walked around the fair together, always with someone else from their group in sight. Until, suddenly, they were alone.

"Let's go on the Ferris wheel," Grantaire suggested.

Enjolras, who didn't like heights, hesitated. "Uh—I don't know."

"Come on, I'll hold your hand," Grantaire joked. Then he frowned. "Oh—sorry, was that romantic?"

"Not unless you meant it that way," Enjolras said. "I'm all for platonic displays of affection." He smiled at his friend and offered his hand.

Grantaire looked a bit nervous, but he took it. "So, uh, are we going?" he asked.

Enjolras linked his fingers in Grantaire's own. "If you insist."

He could sense Grantaire's anxiety throughout the whole ride. He almost regretted agreeing to the whole hand-holding thing, but it was rather nice. Especially as they reached the top.

They could see the whole fair stretched out before them. Lights twinkled and the human of the crowd only heightened Enjolras's anxiety. He clutched Grantaire's sweating hand, thinking desperately of how it felt to have solid ground beneath his feet.

"I didn't know you were afraid of heights," Grantaire said.

"Terrified," Enjolras admitted through gritted teeth.

"Hey, I used to be afraid of you, y'know," Grantaire said. "It doesn't always have to be this way."

He laughed. "Thanks, but I don't think my fear of heights can be solved with coffee and an open mind."

Grantaire laughed, and Enjolras smiled. "Well, I tried," Grantaire said. "We'll be back on the ground soon, anyway."

"Mhm." Enjolras took a deep breath, looking at Grantaire instead of the empty air beneath him. He was glad they were friends now, and this ride together had only deepened their newfound bond. But something he'd said before bothered him.

"Were you really?" Enjolras asked softly, looking at his friend with concern. "Afraid of me, I mean?"

Grantaire shrugged. "Well, yeah. I was attracted to you, y'know, but I didn't really _know_ you. But I got over it. You're actually really nice, you know, and I'm not just saying that because I'm hopelessly in love with you." He paused. "I'm glad we're friends."

Enjolras, for the first time, wasn't especially bothered by Grantaire's admission of love for him. This time, it was sincere, and not just romantic. And he could reciprocate the platonic feelings.

"Yeah, me too," Enjolras agreed.

The ride was over soon, and he got back onto solid ground with great relief. They rejoined the rest of the group, letting go of each other's hands. Enjolras felt closer to Grantaire than he ever had before, and to his surprise, his hand tingled when he let go.

* * *

 

Two days later, after texting Grantaire goodnight, Enjolras went to bed feeling oddly giddy. He grinned as he climbed into bed, thinking about his friend.

Grantaire was so much more thoughtful and insightful than he had ever imagined before they had gotten to know each other. His cynicism, though regrettable, came from experience and personal world-weariness, and he did care about things—he just didn't make it very obvious. Enjolras knew him so much better now, and it brought him happiness just to think of Grantaire's smile, his laugh, his curly hair, the way his paint-stained fingers felt curling around Enjolras's own...

About to fall asleep, Enjolras suddenly sat up in bed, wide awake. This was...unusual. The way his heart pounded, the way he blushed when thinking about Grantaire, the way that goodnight text had made him smile...shit. What the _fuck_ was this supposed to be?

This was new. And Enjolras wasn't sure he liked it. He jumped out of bed and ran over to his computer. Cautiously, not even wanting to admit the possibility, he Googled "demiromantic".

He stayed up all night, a thousand different emotions racing through his mind at once. Guilt (had he been faking his aromanticism before?), confusion (was this really that strange, elusive thing called romantic attraction?), relief (he wasn't broken and heartless after all), more guilt (he wasn't in the first place, being demi didn't change that!).

He didn't want to jump into this all at once. It had taken a long time to realize he was aroace, now being demiro-ace...this was so sudden and new and strange. Was he really in love with Grantaire of all people? The Enjolras of a few months ago would have been appalled!

But the Enjolras of a few months ago wasn't friends with Grantaire. "Demiromantic: a romantic orientation where one experiences romantic attraction only after a close bond has been formed." That fit the bill, and though Enjolras had never felt romantic attraction before now, it sounded a lot like what he had heard described.

Combeferre, his roommate (another person with whom Enjolras shared a close bond, though there wasn't any romance there), found him passed out on the couch the next day.

"Enj? You okay?" Combeferre asked, shaking him gently on the shoulder.

Enjolras sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he woke up. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine." Then he remembered last night: Grantaire, those weird new romantic feelings, his hours spent pouring over the stories and experiences of other demiromantics... For the first time, he finally understood what other people meant by "butterflies in your stomach", even if he was still overwhelmed by this foreign emotion.

Combeferre sat down beside him. "What is it?"

"What time is it?" Enjolras asked, stalling. He was suddenly very nervous to tell Combeferre he was demiro.

"About 12:30," Combeferre said.

"Why did you get up so late?" he asked.

Combeferre laughed. "I was up late researching about moths." His eyes lit up. "Did you know that there's a species of moth that have evolved to look like bird droppings as camouflage?"

"No," Enjolras said. "That's pretty neat, though."

"Yeah!" Combeferre agreed enthusiastically. Then he looked at Enjolras questioningly. "Why did _you_ get up so late?"

"I was up late, too," he said, fidgeting. He paused, then said quietly, "Combeferre, how did you know you were grayromantic?"

Combeferre blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, well...I'd felt romantic attraction before, but never frequently, and usually not very strongly. There would be long periods of time where I wouldn't have a crush at all. I found the definition, and it fit, so I stuck with it. The thing I have with Courf right now, it's pretty weird. I'm gay as well as grayro, you know, and he's pan, so we have sex sometimes, but I'd call our relationship sort of soft romo."

"Huh." Enjolras nodded.

"Why do you ask?" Combeferre asked.

Enjolras swallowed nervously. "Uh, I...well, I think I might not be completely aro after all. I think I'm demiromantic."

Combeferre's eyes widened. "Oh!" he said. "Well! Alright. I'm proud of you, Enj."

Enjolras smiled, leaning into his friend. "Thanks," he said. "I just—" He broke off. "I always thought I was aro, you know? I feel like actually being demi is betraying that, and the aromantic community. Like, surprise! I was faking it! And proving everyone who told me I would fall in love that I was wrong! Or something like that. I feel guilty."

"Enjolras, no one thinks that about arospec people—well, at least not other arospec people," Combeferre said, patting him on the back comfortingly. "You're just as valid as a demiromantic as any aromantic is. And any judgmental people like that can go fuck themselves. Identity is complex. There's nothing wrong with being demi." He grinned.

"Thanks," he said. "I just realized that, uh..." He looked away, blushing. "I think I might have a crush on Grantaire, and that certainly didn't happen until I had a bond with him."

Combeferre looked at him for a long moment. Then he grinned.

"You two will be great together," he said. "But Enjolras, you're not faking it. Being demi is great. I'm happy for you. Being arospec is kind of confusing, I'll grant you that, but it's good."

"Thanks, Ferre," he whispered. "That—that means a lot." He sighed, his gut twisting. "Do you think Grantaire even still likes me? After everything I've done..."

"Of course he does." Combeferre laughed. "He's always liked you, and if anything, you've given him more reason to recently. Just, after you told him you were aroace, he kept it to himself for the most part. And the rest of us. He was a bit of a mess after you two held hands on the Ferris wheel. But he always wanted to respect you and your identity."

Enjolras blushed. "He told you about that?"

"He definitely still likes you," Combeferre confirmed. He patted him on the shoulder. "You should give him a call."

"I...I've only had this crush for like two days!" Enjolras protested. "I realized I was demi last night! I don't want to rush it, what if I'm wrong?"

"Then wait," Combeferre said. "You don't have to do it right now."

"Okay," Enjolras said. "Okay." But the thought of telling Grantaire, of Grantaire admitting to still liking him, of a kiss, which he'd never longed for before, didn't leave him anytime soon.

* * *

 

It was a month later when Enjolras decided he was definitely, absolutely demiromantic, and definitely, absolutely still in love with Grantaire. He came out to Courfeyrac, too, and it was him and Combeferre who gave Enjolras the courage to ask Grantaire out to the coffee shop again. He was eternally grateful for their friendship and how they had never third wheeled him when they had started dating, and promised himself that he would never leave them behind in any romantic adventures he decided to have.

"What's up?" Grantaire asked as they sat down. "You seem a bit fidgety today." He grinned, and Enjolras's stomach did flip-flops. Living with these new romantic feelings unnerved him every day, and he found himself daydreaming about the oddest things—holding hands, kissing, cuddling, sharing a bed. He was definitely still asexual, but God, was he in love.

"Well, uh, remember the last time we were here?" Enjolras said. He'd rehearsed this in his mind over and over again, but his heart pounded now that he was actually saying it.

"Yeah, you had just come out to me as aroace and you wanted to be friends," Grantaire said. "Boy. That feels like a long time ago."

"It was." Enjolras looked into his cup of coffee, but then forced himself to meet Grantaire's eyes. "Well, this time I'm coming out to you again."

He saw Grantaire furrow his brows in confusion, so he rushed on: "I'm demiromantic."

"Oh!" Grantaire said, his eyes widening. "Well, uh, thanks for telling me. And not shouting this time." He looked away, his cheeks reddening. "So, uh, who—I mean, what made you realize it? Unless it's too personal. I know we've been closer lately, but—"

"Grantaire," Enjolras said softly, a calm overcoming him quite suddenly, "I realized I was demi because of _you_."

Grantaire's gaze snapped back to him, his eyes, if possible, even wider. "Wh-what?" he stammered.

"I have a crush on you," Enjolras admitted. The calmness was gone, and he blushed furiously.

At least Grantaire was blushing too. "You d-do?" he whispered. God, he was cute when he stuttered like that.

"Yeah," Enjolras said. "Do you still like me?"

"Always," Grantaire blurted out. "I mean, yeah, I do."

"Do you...do you want to..." Enjolras trailed off.

"I'll be your boyfriend, if that's what you want," Grantaire whispered.

"Yeah." Enjolras leaned forward, regretting that there was a table between them. "I think I want to kiss you right now."

"Let's go someplace a bit more private," Grantaire said.

"Does my car sound good?" Enjolras asked, grabbing his keys.

"Let's go," Grantaire said. They left the booth, and Enjolras hesitantly held out his hand. Grantaire took it, squeezing it like it was a lifeline.

They made it to the car, and Enjolras could only think of a few times he had been happier. Platonic love and the legalization of gay marriage still held special places in his heart, but, he thought as he wrapped himself around Grantaire, romantic love was pretty nice, too.

**Author's Note:**

> So being aromantic I'm not really sure what romantic attraction really feels like (what am I doing here writing romance??? the world may never know), but I read on tumblr a while back someone on the spectrum describing the first time they felt romantic attraction as less of a "oh yes finally this is what everyone was talking about" sort of thing and more of a "what the FUCK is this" kind of feeling. So that's what I rolled with in this fic.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
